


Unwritten

by dracoqueen22



Category: Bleach
Genre: Future Fic, Gift Fic, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Decades in the future, an older Toushirou is tired of being seen as a child by the one he likes. Taking matters into his own hands, he sets out to make Ukitake Jyuushiro see him for the man he has become.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song of the same name by Natasha Bedingfield. 
> 
> Fic was originally written and posted in August 2009 so it only references canon up to that time period and has no connection to current events.

Hitsugaya Toushirou was annoyed, his patience stretched to a very thin thread. At any moment it would snap, resulting in a very icy, destructive mess. His left eyebrow was even twitching. It was, however, the only clear indication of his growing irritation.

Passing decades and increased maturity had provided a tempering factor to his prior outbursts. Which was a good thing because the captain-commander had warned him that the next time he rendered his office incapable of use due to an impromptu ice storm, he would be paying for repairs out of his own pocket. And then, he would be forced to serve an extended duty, patrolling the far borders.

He really hated the far borders.

Sucking in a deep breath, Toushirou closed his eyes and practiced his calming exercises. Again, a mandatory thing required by the captain-commander after the last time he _accidentally_ iced an entire building. It took them days to completely defrost the twelfth division. Was it _his_ fault that Kurotsuchi didn't know when to let things lie and stop pestering him to "voluntarily" participate in a few studies on prodigies? Hell, Kurosaki had denied him too, and he didn't have to attend anger management classes. Then again, Kurosaki hadn't frozen the whole science building under a six inch layer of ice either.

His eyes were closed, but Toushirou knew that the object of his ire was still there. He could smell the sickly sweet scent even through layers of cellophane. Besides, it was plopped right on top of his paperwork. He couldn't get it done without removing the nuisance. Toushirou was partially loathe to touch it.

Another part of him, the part that he buried quite desperately, didn't even want to open the wrappings for fear of destroying what must have taken time and effort. It was a cherished gift but also a hated one. Cherished because of the giver. Hated because of the contents.

Twisting his jaw, Toushirou peeled open his gaze and forced himself to look at the innocuous basket sitting on his desk. The damn thing wasn't innocent in the slightest. It sat there, filled to the brim with candy, and accused him of all manner of things. It called him a child, though not in so many words. It taunted him with sweet flavors, even a few of his favorites, not that he would admit it under pain of death.

Toushirou wasn't a child dammit. He was well over a century old. He was long past the stage of being anything close to a kid. And it bothered him to hell that others still couldn't see beyond the boy he had been when he had first taken the captaincy.

They didn't see the height he had gained, at least taller than Matsumoto now. Okay, so he wasn't the tallest Shinigami, but he was no longer the shortest either. That had to count for something. He was still growing dammit! Even then, they didn't see the maturing of his reiatsu, a more contained and refined river.

To everyone, Toushirou was still the cute kouhai. The prodigy, the brilliant one. The kid who became a captain of the Gotei 13 at such a young age. Who had trampled over a dear friend – though that was only part of the story – to maintain his zanpakutou. Who endured Hyourinmaru's icy and aged spirit.

The very same child who had fought the war against Aizen and nearly lost his best friend to madness.

Really, Toushirou wondered how any of that made him childlike at all. To make matters worse, Kurosaki really _was_ a kid the whole damn time, and they never treated _him_ like one.

Che, bastards.

"You know, taichou, ya have to open it if you want to eat it."

Blinking, Toushirou straightened as the voice of his vice-captain poured into the room, startling him out of his annoyed stupor. He narrowed his eyes, glaring as Matsumoto all but flounced into his office, all bright smiles and jiggling chest. As expected, so many decades later, he was now immune to their bounce. He really didn't know if he should be proud of that fact or worried.

Then again, considering the unrequited love he'd been harboring for a good many years now, it was to be expected.

He scowled and snubbed the basket. "Who said I wanted to eat it?" Toushirou returned, growling a little in his throat.

Matsumoto batted her eyelashes at him, playing the perfect part of stupidity even if he knew that she was more than just a heaving chest beneath. Some people never changed, it seemed.

"Well," she chirped and swooped down like some bird of prey, wrapping her fingers around the woven basket. "If taichou doesn't want it, then I'll just take it off your hands."

Before he knew what he was doing entirely, Toushirou's hand smacked down on top of the cellophane, rattling it noisily. "It would be rude to give away a gift," he retorted, very casually pulling it back towards himself. "I'll just have to keep it."

Matsumoto looked at him, eyes sparkling all knowingly. "Aww, taichou. If you wanted to keep it, you should have just said so." She laughed at him, voice echoing across the entire division. She pulled back and wisely removed her hands from his present. "I wouldn't have taken your precious nummies here."

Toushirou felt that twitch developing in his left brow again. "Wasn't there a reason you burst in here?" he demanded, grasping the hated basket in the safety of his arms.

As he did so, an envelope fell free. One that he hadn't noticed before. It fluttered to the floor, stark white against the wood.

His vice-captain clapped her hands together in girlish glee. "Now, I wonder what that could be?" she questioned teasingly, leaning over his desk with a happy little jiggle of her impressive assets.

It was a sad thing that he was so used to it he hardly noticed anymore. Then again, considering his longstanding crush, perhaps breasts just didn't do it for him. Nope, he wanted long, silky white hair and big, dark eyes. A pleasant, open smile and delicate fingers certainly capable of something artistic.

"Didn't you have something you came in here to say?" Toushirou barked in return, planting his waraji over the envelope and hiding it from sight. He didn't want to share, and swore he could feel his cheeks flushing without his consent.

Reaching up, Matsumoto flicked some of her increasingly longer hair over her shoulder and gave him a knowing look. "Not really," she chirped and then reached for some of the paperwork, making his jaw drop in surprise. "Just thought I'd take some of this off your hands."

"Be still my heart," Toushirou returned, studying her with intense caution.

Was she actually going to do it? Some of her required work?

"What apocalypse should I be wary of now?"

She turned away, flouncing towards the door. His eyes tracked her every movement, certain there was some catch to be had.

"None at all, taichou! You just enjoy your candy and letter." Matsumoto turned to grin at him, fingers waving goodbye with a little flirty wave, and then she was gone, closing the door behind her.

That headache threatened once more. And Toushirou felt a stark fear entering his heart. Matsumoto volunteered to do paperwork. She had _volunteered_. He hadn't had to goad or plead or bribe or demand. She'd walked right in, grabbed a stack of her own volition, and danced right back out.

He honestly didn't know what to do with such an odd occurrence.

Toushirou suddenly remembered the envelope that had come with the package. Leaving his confusion for Matsumoto's odd behavior for another time, he carefully moved the gift to a safer location on the desk. He then slid back and reached for the envelope, pulling it out from under his waraji. It was a bit rumpled now, and there was a definite heel print on it, but it was otherwise undamaged.

Interested, he grabbed his letter opener and sliced it open. As he did, a small piece of folded paper dropped into his lap. Setting aside the sharp piece of metal and the torn envelope, Toushirou picked up the paper and unfolded it, flattening it against his desk.

Ukitake's neat and ordered handwriting greeted his eyes. And though it was only written, each word contained the other captain's usual level of insane optimism. Toushirou could practically see him grinning and humming as he penned the letter.

" _Dear Shirou-chan_ ," it began, and there was a smiley face drawn after the introduction, " _I hope you like the treats this time! The green ones are my favorite._ "

Toushirou paused in his reading to glance at the basket. Sure enough, there was something in a green wrapper. He reached forward and plucked one of them from the many others in the basket and unwrapped it. The candy was something sort of squishy and would probably be chewy. He tried it anyway, popping the small circle into his mouth.

He experimentally chewed, and then, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. It wasn't candy. It was ohagi, cleverly disguised to be something else. Ukitake was so strange. He couldn't help but wonder if it was homemade. That seemed like the type of thing for the man to do.

Reaching for another piece – because yes, these actually were pretty tasty – Toushirou continued, a part of him wishing there were more to read between the lines. If he could just get one single clue, something to make him believe that Ukitake saw him as something more than a child prodigy, maybe then he could believe there was a chance.

" _Things are too quiet around here, don't you think?_ " Ukitake's short letter continued. " _You should come by the thirteenth occasionally. It's nice to visit, you know. And please tell Rangiku-san that I have a vintage bottle with her name of it. Happily yours, Jyuushiro._ "

With a low, aggravated cry, Toushirou let his head fall back as he dropped the letter onto the desk. Nothing there. Not a hint. Just more of the same. He felt like banging his head on the wall. Not that it would help. It proved useless when dealing with Matsumoto. No doubt it would prove useless when handling this as well.

Toushirou popped another of the green-wrapped ohagi into his mouth and chewed glumly. It was really damn good and would have been even better if it really meant something.

"You know, taichou..."

To his credit, Toushirou managed not to jump three feet in the air at the sudden introduction of his lieutenant's voice. As it were, he managed to ignore the rapid beat of his startled heart and toss a frosty glare her direction. He hadn't even noticed that she'd slid his door open again, popping her blond head back in.

"What is it?" he asked on the edge of a growl, eyebrow twitching once more. He really did have anger issues, he realized.

Matsumoto, ever immune to his icy glowers, merely grinned back at him. "Nothing ever happens if you sit around and wait for it."

He blinked, a bit confused by the sudden statement. "That's pretty much obvious, isn't it?" Toushirou retorted and resisted the urge to childishly roll his eyes.

His vice-captain chuckled at him. "See? I knew you were smart, taichou. You should take your own advice." And then, she was gone, popping out of his office and sliding the door shut behind her.

Matsumoto was really fucking weird. He just wished he'd known what he was getting into when she had first been introduced to him all those years ago. If he'd realized then what he knew now perhaps he would have reconsidered. Maybe.

Sighing, Toushirou dragged his fingers across his forehead and leaned back in his chair, eyeing both the letter and basket of treats. Each sitting prominently on his desk.

He wondered what it was he was waiting for. Ukitake to see him for the adult he was? Maybe that would never happen. Honestly, he wasn't the only one. The entirety of the Gotei 13 still saw him as a child prodigy, no matter how much he aged. How could he expect Ukitake Jyuushiro to do the same?

Toushirou realized that he could be waiting for the rest of his existence. Always searching for something, some little clue. And he wasn't even sure what exactly it was he was looking for. He should be stronger than this. Just what was he afraid of?

Abruptly, the tenth division captain rose to his feet, nearly pushing his chair out behind him. That was it. He wasn't waiting anymore. He'd show Ukitake just how much of an adult he really was. And he'd finally, finally confess his intentions. Or something like that.

At any rate, he'd at least thank the older captain for the basket. Small steps, after all. Small steps.

Resolved, Toushirou grabbed Hyourinmaru and returned him to his usual position slung across his back. Even an addition to his height hadn't made it possible to carry the lengthy zanpakutou at his side. His other hand snatched a second piece of ohagi, and then, he was out the door, startling Matsumoto who was in the middle of lounging in her chair. The stacks of paperwork she had taken were sitting on her desk, looking for all the world as if they hadn't been touched.

"I'm going out," Toushirou announced firmly, never breaking stride towards the door. "I'll be back later."

Her laughter and wave followed him out of the building. "Bye! Say hello to Ukitake-taichou for me!"

Damn, nosy vice-captain. Thought she knew everything.

Toushirou did his best not to snarl a response over his shoulder as he headed out of his division and turned towards the thirteenth, relatively nearby. It was warm outside, the freshness of spring giving all of Seireitei a sense of rebirth. He passed grinning Shinigami many of whom greeted him, and the wind carried the scent of recently opened flowers. It was a nice day.

Toushirou didn't much like it. He preferred the cold of winter; Hyourinmaru's influence, he supposed. He liked snow and ice and warm, crackling fires with hot drinks while the world was covered with white beyond his window. He enjoyed watching his breath puff out in front of him in grey billows and hearing his feet crunch through newly fallen snow.

"Hitsugaya-taichou!"

"Hey! I saw him first!"

"No, I did!"

"Hitsugaya-taichou!"

The noise of Ukitake's annoying third-seats pierced Toushirou's inner thoughts, and he drew to a halt, finding himself just before the thirteenth division. He'd apparently thought himself here. Strange.

The two – Kotetsu and Kotsubaki – were grappling with each other in the gateway, both trying to get his attention before the other. Why they were trying to do so, Toushirou wasn't sure. But he wasn't really in the mood for their antics.

"Is Ukitake in?" he asked rather loudly, peppering his request with a burst of icy reiatsu in order to break through their scuffling.

Kotetsu's head clamped in his elbow, Kotsubaki nodded fervently. "Yes, sir, Hitsugaya-taichou. He's in his office right now."

"Argh, Sentarou!" Kotetsu snarled and jabbed an elbow into the other's gut, causing him to whoosh out a breath of air and loosen his elbow. "I wanted to tell him!"

Despite heaving for breath, Kotsubaki managed to laugh. "Too late now," he teased and then yelped as Kotetsu swung at him again.

Rolling his eyes, unable to resist the gesture, Toushirou slid past the insane duo and stepped into the courtyard. After all these years, the two till hadn't matured or gotten over their stupid rivalry. When they were going to realize they were madly in love with each other, Toushirou didn't know. He just wished it were sooner rather than later. No doubt Ukitake did as well.

They called after him, but Toushirou ignored the two. He stepped into the division, as always impressed by the orderly and beautiful grounds. The main building was directly in front of him, doors flung open wide to any visitors. Ukitake was like that, he supposed, open and friendly to anyone.

As he walked into the office, no one seemed to mind his presence. There was anybody at the desk for the second seat, and Ukitake's door was pushed wide open. Honestly, there was a limit to friendliness. Though Toushirou shouldn't have been surprised. Passing by the neatly ordered desk and a wildly overgrown indoor plant, he paused in the doorway.

Ukitake hadn't noticed him yet, forehead slightly pinched as he glowered down at the paperwork on his desk. The end of his brush tapped against the polished wood in a distracted rhythm, and he looked years younger with his hair pulled back into a low ponytail, strands of white slipping over one shoulder. It took several seconds for Toushirou to realize that he was staring like some sort of lovesick fool.

Lifting a hand, he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe to announce his presence. He didn't need to get caught standing there and staring at Ukitake's lips, how he occasionally tugged them with his teeth in his distraction. Or watching the elegance of his fingers as they thumbed through documents. Nope, Toushirou didn't need to be noticing any of this.

Ukitake looked up, and his dark eyes immediately sparkled. "Hitsugaya-kun!" he greeted cheerfully with a happy clip to his syllables. "Isn't this a surprise?"

"Err, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" he asked, taking that as an invitation to come into the office. He knew he was an adult now, but sometimes, he had the feeling of being just a child. Especially in front of this man.

The older captain waved a hand of dismissal, already setting aside his brush. "Of course not! Have a seat."

Toushirou inclined his head, reaching to undo Hyourinmaru's tie so that he could sit. He realized as he settled himself that he was unusually nervous. A strange sweat had attacked his palms, and his heart was suddenly thunderous in his chest.

"May I presume you received the basket?" Ukitake asked, smiling as he sat back in his chair, happily setting aside his paperwork.

He wondered if that were a Gotei-wide thing, hating one's paperwork. Except maybe the captain-commander. He certainly handed out enough. Maybe he had some weird fetish for important documents that none of them knew about. And wow, wasn't that a gross thought.

Toushirou inclined his head, thinking of the final ohagi he'd eaten on his way here. "I did. Thank you for the gift." He reddened slightly, recalling how he had sampled some of the goods. "Your ohagi was cleverly disguised."

Ukitake practically beamed with pride. "I made them myself." One hand raised to tuck a bundle of hair behind his shoulder, and Toushirou found himself watching every small move the older man made.

He really needed to _stop_ doing that before he started acting really strange.

"They were very good," Toushirou assured him, unconsciously licking his lips in remembrance. He hoped there would be some left when he returned to the office, considering Matsumoto might sneak in and eat the rest. Grr.

"Then, I'm glad you liked them." Ukitake grinned again.

Toushirou found himself struggling for something coherent to say. He'd come here determined to do something. He didn't know what. He just knew that it was time he stopped waiting and started acting. If he wanted this man to see him as more than just a kid, he had to show Ukitake that he wasn't the same prodigy everyone had coddled.

Toushirou sat up in his seat, resolve painted into his features. "Are you free tomorrow, Ukitake-taichou?" he asked, the question sudden and out of the blue, but he didn't want to lose his nerve. He'd talked himself into this, and he didn't want to back down.

Ukitake blinked at him and then pursed his lips in thought. "I have a training exercise in the morning and then a performance review for a few of the lower-seats in the afternoon. Why?"

He took a deep breath. "I was hoping you would join me for dinner," Toushirou asked and made it sound as adult as he possibly could. There wasn't even tremor in his voice.

Truth be told though, he'd be damned if he knew where he could go. He would have to ask Matsumoto for good places, horror of horrors. Maybe he should consider it repayment for the food she must have consumed from his gift basket.

There was a moment of breathless anticipation where Toushirou's invitation hung in the air, and he waited for Ukitake's response. His heart was a roaring beat in his chest, and his palms were doing that odd sweating thing again. He surreptitiously rubbed them on his hakama, trying to appear more put-together than the hanging-on-a-precipice feeling his body currently gave him.

Finally, Ukitake smiled brightly and inclined his head. "I would love to," he agreed with an air of his usual enthusiasm. "In fact, that would be a perfect end to the day. Dinner with Shirou-chan."

He winced at the nickname but reminded himself that it wouldn't be for much longer. He was going to change that. Toushirou nearly sighed at the relief that washed through him, but he carefully held it back, not wanting to show how excited he actually felt. Mature was the word here.

"Great," he responded, shoulders relaxing as the tension eased out of him.

Step one was already on. Now, he just needed to manage the rest.

"We can leave from here about eight then?" Toushirou swore that dark eyes were glinting at him.

"Perfect." Ukitake beamed.

And now, he decided, was the perfect time to make a good exit before his cheeks decided to betray him with the effect that Ukitake's smile had on him. They were dangerous, those kind and agreeable grins. Enough to make people's hearts stop.

"Right." And Toushirou resisted the urge to act like a moron and effect a cool swipe of his hand over his head. He settled for rising to his feet with a short bow. "I think I've probably kept you from your work long enough."

Ukitake scoffed with a small laugh that was too charming for his own good. "Busy work more like," he replied dryly, tapping his fingers over the documents. "You would think Genryuusai-sensei was hoping for another war with all the patrols he keeps demanding."

"It does seem like it," Toushirou agreed. Personally though, he'd rather never have anything to do with war again. The mess they faced against Aizen those decades before was something he'd rather not repeat. Some nights, he still remembered, and that was more than enough for him.

Slim, elegant fingers picked up his brush again, though it was with obvious reluctance. "I will see you tomorrow, Hitsugaya-kun." He smiled warmly, making his eyes sparkle, looking so very handsome.

"Right. Good evening." With a tip of his head, Toushirou grabbed Hyourinmaru and was out the door, his heart pounding in his chest.

And tomorrow, Ukitake would be calling him just Toushirou. He would make sure of that. No more of those cutesy nicknames. No more space-separating titles or honorifics on the end. Toushirou had always gotten angry over the loss in his youth but no longer. He was an adult now. And mature. He would allow it from certain people, and Ukitake was definitely one of those.

He could only hope that Ukitake would allow him the same in return. He longed to have the other man's name actually on his tongue. Tomorrow would be his chance. His golden opportunity. His _date_ – of all things – with Ukitake Jyuushiro.

Were he Matsumoto, there would have been an almost fangirly squeal of interest. And since he wasn't – thank the gods – all it elicited was a rather goofy grin that had a few passing Shinigami looking upon him oddly. But he couldn't seem to stop it no matter how hard he tried.

Tomorrow, Toushirou would prove that he was a man and Shirou-chan no longer.

At least, he certainly hoped so.


	2. Chapter 2

Toushirou was nervous.

Or perhaps nervous was too light of a word. He'd thought sweaty palms and relentlessly beating hearts in Ukitake's presence were bad. Well, he was wrong. He couldn't have anticipated the anxiousness he was suffering now.

He'd dressed down for the date. He didn't want it to be about captains and the Gotei 13 and well, anything official. So everything had been left behind, especially his haori. Even Hyourinmaru was retired to his stand for the evening, though the frosty dragon would always be a presence in the back of his mind.

Toushirou's anxiety wasn't just because it was a date and an important one. It was because it was _the date_. His chance to impress, to prove himself. And everything had to go perfect, to go well. He wouldn't forgive himself if he screwed it up somehow. And so he worried.

Was he dressed well enough? How exactly would he prove his new maturity? Would he ever stop sweating like Kuchiki Byakuya under the eyes of the Shinigami Women's Association? Would he manage to swallow past the lump in his throat? Would Ukitake notice the obvious pallor his complexion had taken?

Not for the first time that night, Toushirou checked his appearance. His hands patted over his clothing, checking again for stains and wrinkles or anything else that suggested a history of being unkempt. He couldn't do anything for his hair. It would spike no matter how much he brushed or tried to tame it with hair products from the human world. Not even the gel that Kurosaki had handed over worked.

And as for his clothes… well, Matsumoto had picked them out for him, which made Toushirou question his own sanity. She had assured him he looked very mature, and he had chosen to trust his lieutenant for once. It wasn't as if he knew any better. Dark hakama complemented his teal haori and deep blue undercoat, and he could only hope that it didn't contrast too badly with his white hair.

Forcing a calm he did not feel, Toushirou cursed himself for planning to meet at Ukitake's division. Hadn't he wanted to separate this from their relationship within the Gotei 13? But nervousness had moved his lips before rationality, and now, he found himself walking the barely populated pathways, heading for the thirteenth.

He reminded himself that he was an adult now. A captain of the Gotei 13. He should be surer of himself.

Ukitake stepped out of the building in front of him before Toushirou could even open the gates, and he felt his heart give a stutter. All carefully planned words vanished from his lips as Ukitake turned to lock the main gate, his appearance vastly different from what Toushirou was used to. The pale green complimented his complexion, and once again, he looked years younger with his hair pulled out of his eyes like that.

He smiled when he noticed Toushirou, idly lifting a hand in a wave. "Evening, Hitsugaya-kun. You're right on time."

"It wouldn't be good to be late," he replied and winced when he realized it came out a little snappishly. But Ukitake didn't seem to mind. His smile didn't falter.

"No, it wouldn't," he agreed instead and very casually looked Toushirou over, and it was vaguely reminiscent of a parent seeing if a child had dressed properly. "It is nice to see one another outside of work, isn't it?"

' _I will not blush. I **will**_ _not blush_ ,' Toushirou told himself repeatedly.

But dammit, there wasn't anything else to call the heating in his cheeks.

"It is," he agreed and his mouth went dry, clamming up on him. He wanted to say something suave and cool, like how attractive Ukitake looked or how well the colors suited him. Instead, he just chewed on his lip and fidgeted.

Oh, so smooth.

Ukitake didn't seem to notice. Always so oblivious. He just turned to walk, and Toushirou fell in line beside him, thanking kami and whoever else deserved it that he didn't have to look so far up to see his face anymore. He was only a few inches shy of Ukitake, and Unohana often assured him he had at least one or two more growth spurts left in him.

"Have you decided on a place?" Ukitake asked, startling his companion out of a daze.

One where Toushirou had been admiring the older man's complexion, forever smooth and unmarred.

He blinked, repeated the question to himself, and realized that Jyuushiro was probably looking for an answer sometime this century. "There's a new sushi place nearby that I've been told is pretty good," he stated, meaning it more as a suggestion than an absolute. If Ukitake wasn't amenable, he had plenty of other options.

"Matsumoto-san I assume?"

If that was a slight on his ability to socialize outside his own division, Toushirou chose to ignore it. "Yes," he answered instead.

A tint of annoyance struck his mind as he thought of the numerous pamphlets and flyers Matsumoto had dumped onto his desk as helpful suggestions. Most of them had actually been pretty good. Not that he would ever admit that.

"It's nice that she was so helpful."

Toushirou barely resisted the scowl that wanted to twist his features. "Sometimes, too much so."

Ukitake laughed, and Toushirou found he rather liked that sound. Ukitake had a good laugh, always sounding as if he were genuinely experiencing joy. He was a man who faked nothing, and Toushirou really liked that about him.

"You two have a good relationship. It's enviable," he said wistfully.

Toushirou lifted a brow. "She rarely completes her paperwork, suffocates me on a daily basis, and skips out early to go drinking. What in that is enviable?" he groused, though he had to admit that one day she actually did do some of her work was nearly a blessing in itself. And she was an adequate fighter when it came down to it.

The older captain's amusement didn't fade. "Ah, but you're friends. And you respect one another. That is a great thing."

"Maybe," Toushirou admitted very reluctantly and was surprised at how easy the conversation flowed between them. He snuck another glance at Jyuushiro, stomach doing that annoying little flip-flop thing as he caught the other man's profile. "Better than Kurosaki at any rate. He's stuck with Ayasegawa who's almost as bad as Matsumoto. At least when it comes to gossiping."

Dark eyes twinkled with merriment. "From what I hear, they're getting along just fine," Jyuushiro countered with a fond grin since it was he who had become the former Shinigami substitute's mentor. "But enough about work for now. Is this the place?"

Toushirou looked up, and though he hadn't been here before, the name on the wooden sign was familiar. "I think it is," he said, and gentlemanly thoughts took over as he gestured Ukitake inside ahead of him.

Ukitake didn't seem to notice as he stepped inside, interest piqued by the décor and the enticing scents emanating from the kitchen off to the side. The hostess who greeted them was all smiles and quickly ushered the two men to a good table.

The restaurant itself was classy but casual, helping to ease some of Toushirou's nervousness. The seating was private enough to be intimate but not so closed off that it felt secretive. He could still see many of the other patrons, though only a few paid attention to them. They were more interested in their own meals and companions.

Sitting comfortably in his seat, Toushirou was struck by the realization that this was honestly the first time he'd been able to converse with Ukitake outside the office. And he struggled to find a topic, barely noticing when their server brought the appetizer course and opened a bottle of wine for them, carefully selected by Toushirou on Matsumoto's recommendation. If this turned out well, he would have to thank her.

He tried for humor, looking around pointedly. "What? No Kyouraku?"

Ukitake smiled at that, a fond look taking over his face as he thought of his dearest friend. "He was otherwise occupied," he answered and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "Besides, I wanted to spend time with Shirou-chan."

He winced at the much-used nickname, having grown more than tired of it. Now, Toushirou decided, was the perfect time to politely correct Ukitake on the matter.

"You could call me Toushirou if you want. I would not mind." In fact, he would be almost giddy were that to happen, though Toushirou kept that little tidbit to himself.

"Is that so? Then, I expect to be called Jyuushiro in return. It's only fair." Dark eyes glowed warmly as he nonchalantly reached for his wineglass, sipping at it. "Ah, what a good selection, Toushirou."

Unbeknownst to him, Toushirou's cheeks warmed at just the sound of his name. He loved the syllables as they danced on Jyuushiro's tongue. So smooth and sultry. It made his body heat. And Toushirou found himself smiling just a bit, a goofy grin threatening to take over.

So far, so good.

"I think so, too," Toushirou agreed and tasted the wine for himself.

It was okay. Alcohol wasn't really his thing, but then, he wasn't really there for food and drink. In fact, Toushirou wasn't even really hungry. He was too busy admiring the man across from him, thanking kami and all else he could that he'd allowed Jyuushiro to call him by name. He couldn't wait to try to return the allowance.

More importantly, however, it was time they actually started a conversation of some kind Toushirou realized, and that was when the panic hit. What the hell could they talk about that didn't have anything to do with the Gotei 13? He didn't know anything about Jyuushiro! Not his interests or his abilities or anything!

Wait. That was the whole point of a date, wasn't it? To get to know the other person and to spend time with them. He just needed an opening, something to get the conversation flowing. Something... familiar.

In that instant, Toushirou remembered the gift basket that had started his brave foray into obtaining his heart's desire. The basket and the homemade ohagi that it contained.

He took a deep breath. "Do you cook a lot?" Toushirou asked, a touch of hope entering his voice as he watched Jyuushiro.

The other captain turned back towards him, a soft smile on his face. "As often as I am able." Jyuushiro set his glass back on the table. "I'm an adequate cook, but I won't be starting a restaurant anytime soon."

Toushirou chuckled, nerves fluttering in his belly like a flock of wild jigokuchou. "That's better than me," he admitted rather sheepishly. "I can't cook at all. I always have to get takeout or have my housekeeper make dinner for me."

"Perhaps I could teach you sometime," Jyuushiro suggested, lifting a brow in surprise at Toushirou's lack of ability. "There are plenty of recipes that are quick and easy."

The offer, given so easily, made Toushirou warm on the inside and calmed the avid flutter. "That would be great," he agreed, and his smile came easier as the waitress brought their food in that moment, setting the plates down before them. "What other hobbies do you have?"

The conversation flowed easier than he would have thought, especially when Jyuushiro launched into a description of the children's books that he wrote. Toushirou wasn't surprised. The other captain very much seemed the type to do such a thing. It was cute, and Toushirou only plucked at his food, finding himself captivated.

This was going even better than he hoped. Now if only he could manage to not monumentally screw-up, things would be just perfect.

This was his chance. No turning back now.

* * *

Toushirou was panicking.

Or fretting perhaps was the more proper word to use. The date had gone well. Very well. But it hadn't felt like a date. More like two friends going out for a casual dinner. While he'd managed to pull Jyuushiro out of their usual Gotei 13 relationship, nothing about that occasion had screamed of romance. And he hadn't confessed!

Had it been a complete failure or only marginally so? Toushirou simply didn't know. Thus the fretting. Honestly, he hadn't gotten any work done at all that day, too busy running through the conversation over and over in his head. Picking it apart. Looking for some sign, some nuance that it meant more to Jyuushiro than just a dinner with his kouhai. He wanted to find more of a reason to hope.

He felt and sounded like an idiot.

With a groan, Toushirou's forehead found his desk, landing on top of untouched paperwork as his stomach twisted and churned. Jyuushiro had looked both beautiful and handsome last night. And their conversation had gone reasonably well, despite Toushirou's stuttered attempts at it. Everything seemed to have been so great. Except at the end, he'd choked. He hadn't confessed. And Jyuushiro still thought of him as a child no doubt.

Someone knocked on his door. Toushirou internally rolled his eyes, leaving his head on his desk where it belonged.

"Go away, Matsumoto," he called out, his vice-captain annoying him for details from the moment he'd stepped into the office that morning. "I am busy."

Despite his denial, the door opened of its own accord. "You don't look so busy, Shirou-chan."

And that voice definitely did not belong to Matsumoto. In fact, it wasn't even female.

"Kyouraku?" Toushirou jerked up his head in surprise, blinking at the massive man taking up his doorway, pink haori bright and familiar. "Errr... Apologies, I did not realize it was you."

Great. There went his opportunity to prove his maturity.

Kyouraku shrugged, swaggering in and pulling the door shut behind him with one hand. The other was busy carrying a suspicious package.

"This isn't business," he commented in a cheery tone. "This is personal."

"Personal," Toushirou repeated flatly, unsure if he should be interested or wary. One never knew with Kyouraku. "Feel free to have a seat then. What's it about?"

Kyouraku grinned and made himself at home, setting the undetermined package right next to him with a pat. "So I hear you and Jyuu-chan went on a date," he commented, barreling right into the matter at hand.

Somehow, Toushirou had known that it would come to this. That didn't stop his face from burning with embarrassment. Did Jyuushiro tell this man _everything_? Wait. Did that mean that Jyuushiro considered it a date then?

"It was just dinner," Toushirou hedged, fishing for some details. He wanted to know what Kyouraku knew that way he could perhaps see what Jyuushiro thought.

Greenish grey eyes glimmered. "You're only saying that because Jyuushiro didn't recognize it as a date."

Toushirou's mouth opened to say something, but then he closed it again, unsure of how he was supposed to reply. Did that mean Jyuushiro _hadn't_ said it was a date? Or maybe he hadn't talked to Kyouraku at all and the man had just heard it through the grapevine. That was likely, considering he and Matsumoto drank together on an almost daily basis. And his second loved nothing more than a good love story.

"You came to taunt me then?" His gaze hardened, becoming a familiar icy mask that was much, much safer than the bewildered and love-struck teen he had been feeling lately.

"Of course not!" Kyouraku retorted joyfully, and he reached for the package, landing it with a thunk on Toushirou's desk. "I came to offer my advice. And to help." With that – and an elaborate twirl of his hand – he whipped off the cover of the box and tilted the contents onto Toushirou's desk.

His mouth dropped open in an instant as he gawped at the items scattered across his paperwork. Toys of a distinctly unchild-like nature. Several books, one of which's title stood out prominently – Gay Sex for Dummies – Now Fully Illustrated! A few framed portraits, most of which displayed Jyuushiro. A bottle of sake… from a good year, too. And a few other odds and ends, some of which Toushirou wasn't sure he could identify.

He stared. And stared. And stared a bit more.

"What _is_ this?" Toushirou demanded, wanting to look at one of the pictures but even more not wanting to touch the "toy" that hovered next to it.

"A present!" Kyouraku declared with an enormous grin. "To help support you and Jyuu on your path to love!"

Toushirou's face was so red that he could have fried an egg on it. A whole carton of them. He closed his eyes, feeling as if he were faced with Matsumoto trying to avoid her paperwork yet again.

"Kyouraku," he began very slowly, feeling his eyebrow twitch several times. "As much as I appreciate the help, I don't think all of this--" he blindly gestured towards the _toys_ "--is necessary."

"Oh, it is," Kyouraku replied with a sage nod. He leaned forward, his elbows hitting the desk as he wove his fingers together. "With me at your side, Jyuu will be yours in no time. Trust me, Shirou-chan."

Somehow, Toushirou was no more relieved now than he was before. He exhaled weakly, keeping his gaze firmly pinned away from the helpful how-to guides littering his desk.

"Sounds great," he lied through his teeth.

Kyouraku just beamed.

* * *

"You, my friend, are an idiot."

At the unexpected and rather rude statement, Jyuushiro glanced up from his paperwork and found Shunsui dropping himself down in front of him. He blinked at the sudden appearance of his friend and put down his brush, very subtly hiding his recently received gift. One of which he had been carefully pondering for the last hour, resulting in little to no paperwork actually getting done.

"I love you, too," Jyuushiro replied with a raised brow. Shunsui didn't _seem_ drunk, but what did that really mean? "Is there a reason you insulted me on first appearance?"

Shunsui grinned, balancing one hair-covered chin on his palm as he stared at his oldest and dearest friend. "Oh, no reason there, lover-boy. Though it would have been nice to know you ditched me for a date with Shirou-chan."

"A date?" Jyuushiro repeated and felt just a hint of confusion. He pondered again the gift sitting in his desk, ever so innocuous in its polite and refined wrappings, a touch of frost on the edge of the ribbon.

The other man looked at him, disbelief cast on his face. "Yes, a date, Mr. Oblivious. I can't believe you didn't realize that Shirou-chan was courting you."

"Courting me?" Jyuushiro blinked, hardly able to believe his ears. Toushirou was _courting_ him?

Well, that explained the gift. And the cute but hesitant query. And the shy looks. And well, pretty much all of everything else that Jyuushiro had noticed and only attributed to the normal behavior of a boy caught between child and man, of a teenager. Which Toushirou sort of was despite being over a century old.

But _courting_ him? Surely, there were others who Toushirou would prefer than a sickly old man like himself?

Shunsui chuckled and rolled his eyes both. "You're not old," he commented, as though reading Jyuushiro's mind. Or perhaps he had said it aloud without knowing. "And you're a pretty fine catch, Jyuu. No wonder the boy's smitten."

"Smitten?"

His best friend tossed him an exasperated look. "Are you going to repeat everything I say?"

"Maybe," Jyuushiro hedged, brain still processing the information and working on overload.

It wasn't that he hadn't enjoyed dinner with Toushirou last night, but that he hadn't expected it to have another motive. Though he should have known considering he and the icy boy-captain rarely had meetings outside of work. And Toushirou had looked very mature in his clothing, which had suited him greatly.

Shunsui laughed, pulling his straw hat from his head and setting it on the floor beside him. "Honestly, Jyuu, is it that hard to believe?"

"A little… Yes." He completely abandoned his paperwork and contemplated tea. "I mean, I've always been fond of Toushirou, but--"

"Oh, so it's _Toushirou_ now?"

The lewd waggling of Shunsui's eyebrows was better saved for more tawdry places, and Jyuushiro could only roll his eyes.

"He insisted."

"Did he now?" Shunsui's grin widened like he knew some secret that Jyuushiro was not yet privy to or could even fathom if he were. "I can't believe you didn't notice." He shook his head and clucked his tongue. "Well, what are you going to do?"

"Do?" Jyuushiro wasn't aware that there was something he was supposed _to_ do. This was all very surprising to him, who hadn't known to expect anything.

Shunsui stared at him, unable to believe his ears. "Are you going to accept his feelings or not?" he asked, speaking carefully as though addressing a particularly slow child. Or Byakuya when he was having one of his usual snits.

The sickly captain furrowed his brow, pondering a question he hadn't though he would have need to ponder before. "I've never really thought about it," Jyuushiro murmured more to himself than to Shunsui.

"Perhaps you should start. He's serious about you, Jyuushiro." Shunsui gave a sharp nod. "Very serious. I'd say that he's probably been interested for quite awhile. Decades even."

Jyuushiro let out his breath in a rush at that information. "Then, I'll have to answer his feelings seriously, won't I?"

"Now, you're getting it." Shunsui hauled himself to his feet, a task that required significant effort considering the length of his legs. "Well, I told Nanao I was headed to the restroom a couple of hours ago."

"She'll be looking for you then. Sometimes, I pity Ise-san." Jyuushiro smiled, chuckling at the predicament his best friend was likely to find himself in when he returned to his division.

The other captain winked, picking up his hat and returning it to his head with a skilled twirl. "Not many men can claim that the girls chase them, ne?"

"Get out of here, Shun," Jyuushiro countered and idly patted the stacks of untouched papers on his desk, pretending to sort them.

Laughing, Shunsui swept from the room. No doubt to elude his vice-captain for just a bit longer.

Jyuushiro returned to thoughtfulness, thinking again of the gift that Toushirou had given him. It was a simple thing, but when he considered the other captain's feelings, it suddenly became that much more important. Something he should treasure. The very fact that it was also a book he'd been diligently seeking for the better part of a decade was another reason to treat it carefully.

And he idly wondered how Toushirou had known before shaking that thought away. Jyuushiro was no stranger to confessions. He'd received many over the years, including being aware of Kiyone's crush on him. For some reason, hearing that Toushirou liked him seemed different. Special even. And the fact that his first instinct wasn't to turn him down gently was a pretty big clue.

He considered Toushirou as he had appeared that night, a height nearly matching Jyuushiro's own and a definite maturity to his expression. He realized that he hadn't really looked at Toushirou lately, and with that, he also realized that the boy had indeed grown. His reiatsu had also matured, a refined icy breeze rather than the billowing, torrential snowstorm that had always surrounded him.

His youthful features had ripened, his bright eyes softening to a deep aquamarine. He was in many ways very attractive. And Jyuushiro had heard as much from many of the Shinigami. Toushirou was a favorite topic amongst the female population, though they kept their distance thanks to Matsumoto's fearful presence. And yet, Jyuushiro had always thought that Toushirou's affections were reserved for his childhood friend Hinamori-chan. Though he supposed her recent lapse in sanity might have had something to do with that falling out, the poor dear.

Toushirou was courting him, and well… Jyuushiro found that he didn't really mind one bit. In fact, he was not only flattered but pleased to hear it. He wanted in that moment to see Toushirou outside of work once more. To confirm for himself the not-quite-new but recently discovered revelations thrumming through him. He wanted to confirm for himself Toushirou's feelings. And perhaps his own as well.

That settled it then. The next time around, Jyuushiro would be the one to ask Toushirou on a date. And he believed he knew just the place.


	3. Chapter 3

The captain-commander had a voice fit to put anyone to sleep, even those determined to prove themselves as full-grown men. Especially when he droned on and on about topics that weren't of interest, such as reminders for divisions to be careful in their use of allotted supplies since the budget wasn't limitless. And reports on the decreasing Hollow activity. Or requests for capable Shinigami to fill still-open positions. The usual.

With Toushirou's new maturity, he was determined to stay awake and listen to Yamamoto-soutaichou all the way through. However, his determination was nothing against the old man's ability to cause drowsiness. He faltered where he stood, swaying back and forth between Kyouraku – who kept shooting him amused and knowing looks – and Kurotsuchi who sneered for seemingly no reason at all.

It wasn't even important things they were discussing. Yamamoto just held these weekly meetings to prove that he was still alive and well and no one should get any ideas of succession in their head. Toushirou had seen Kurotsuchi eye the captain-commander's position once or twice. And even Soifon had given it a covetous glance or two.

Che. Toushirou didn't want it. Way too much responsibility and stress for him. He had enough trouble controlling the Shinigami in his own division, much less everyone else's. The captain-commander could have that headache.

The sound of Yamamoto's cane rapped against the floor, knocking Toushirou from his reverie. He jumped as if startled and realized that the old man had called an end to the meeting. And five minutes early. Small favors.

Toushirou dragged a palm over his face, trying to wake up as he and the other captains of the Gotei 13 filtered out of the first division chambers. He stepped into painfully bright sunlight, wincing against the terrible illumination. He really did prefer winter.

A hand settled on his arm. "Toushirou?"

He would know that voice anywhere. Toushirou felt tingles where those gentle fingers touched and tried not to blush as he turned to look at Jyuushiro, who was carefully leading him away from the throng and off to the side, out of the way.

"Ukita-- Jyuushiro was there something you needed?" he asked, hoping he sounded professional and not all starry-eyed hopeful like he was at the moment. Toushirou felt himself practically beaming, stomach all aflutter at being able to call his name. Loved the syllables as they rolled of his tongue and --

By the gods! He sounded like a love struck teenage girl!

Jyuushiro smiled at him. Toushirou felt his heart skip a beat.

"Nothing work related, I assure you," the older man replied softly.

"Even better," Toushirou said, the response slipping out of his mouth before he could stop himself. It betrayed his emotions entirely.

Something glinted in dark eyes. "Precisely," Jyuushiro returned, and there was an edge of a hum to his voice.

Beyond him, Toushirou caught sight of Kyouraku lingering on the perimeter watching them. He remembered the conversation with the other man, and pure determination kept the tips of his ears from burning.

"Errmm, okay," Toushirou said quite intelligently and hated himself for not being more eloquent. Where was the scowling, frosty captain of before? The one who barely managed to get Matsumoto to do her paperwork?

But Jyuushiro's hand was still on his arm. Toushirou looked down at it, admired the long and elegant fingers. Perfectly clipped and even nails. Strong hands capable of strong things with a hint of callous that no manner of moisturizing could cure. And he'd bet his paycheck this month they were skilled. In all manner of things.

" _Imagine what centuries' worth of experience could be_ ," Kyouraku had said.

Toushirou swallowed thickly. He forced his eyes to lift back towards the safety of Jyuushiro's face.

The man grinned. "Thank you for the gift," he murmured, squeezing Toushirou's arm warmly. "It was much appreciated."

Considering that all the information had come from Kyouraku, Toushirou felt a little guilty for taking credit. Though he had been the one to wrestle it away from another avid collector. Fair's fair, he supposed.

"You're welcome," Toushirou commented after a moment of hesitation. "I'm glad that you liked it." He tried not to let the rising flush grace his cheeks at the look Jyuushiro sent him, one that said he had definitely liked the gift.

"I do. I really do," Jyuushiro continued and finally dropped his hand from Toushirou's arm, though the younger captain lamented the loss of the touch. "I would like to return the favor."

"You don't have--"

"I want to," the older man assured him before Toushirou could intervene, not wanting Jyuushiro to do anything out of some polite obligation or anything. "There's a celebration in the first district--"

"--the Lantern Festival--" Toushirou clarified, remembering with some fondness participating in that every year when he had lived in Rukongai. It was one of the few he had actually enjoyed. Back when Hinamori was still sane and his grandmother was alive and he hadn't yet met Hyourinmaru. Simpler, gentler times.

Jyuushiro grinned again. "Precisely. Would you like to attend with me?"

Toushirou blinked. That couldn't possibly sound like he wanted it to sound. Jyuushiro couldn't be asking him on a date, could he? Did this mean Toushirou _hadn't_ screwed things up entirely?

Something like excitement bubbled up inside of him, threatening to cover his face in a curtain of glee. His belly fluttered again, a thousand jigokuchou dancing inside of him. And he knew that he had to look like an absolute idiot in that moment.

"I did plan to go," Toushirou commented after he had calmed himself. Trying and failing not to sound too eager.

"And festivals are always better enjoyed with friends," Jyuushiro agreed, eyes sparkling as he tipped his head to the side. "Can I count on your presence then?"

Friends? Toushirou felt his hope dwindle and die slowly. Just friends? That was it?

Well, he supposed if that was the best he was going to get, he'd have to deal with it. He wondered if Jyuushiro was ever going to see him as anything more than a child. As something other than a fellow captain. But then, he had a sudden and worrisome thought that perhaps he had been put into the same category as Kyouraku Shunsui. One that included the best of friends who could be relied on for anything but were never going to be viewed as someone to desire.

Of course, a greater fear entered the picture after that thought. Was Kyouraku going to be there as well?

Toushirou really, really hoped not. The last time he'd spoken with the man, there had been pictures, diagrams, and enough embarrassment to last him for the next couple centuries if not more. He wasn't sure he could face the shame of those damn knowing eyes and drunken smile.

Fighting back a shudder, he glanced up at Jyuushiro. "Will anyone else be joining us?" he asked and hoped that he didn't sound too hesitant.

Jyuushiro chuckled, as though reading his mind. "If you are asking about Shunsui… then no, he won't be coming. From what I hear, Ise-san has somehow managed to put him into lock down. It will just be us."

_Us._

Toushirou rather liked the sound of that. Even if they only went as friends. Even if he spent the entire time doing nothing more than talking and feeling his heart thump in his chest. Even if it broke afterwards.

Dammit. Why were these things always so damn difficult?

"Sounds like a plan," Toushirou agreed then. And though it sounded like the end of a conversation, he found himself lingering.

Jyuushiro lingered, too. And they looked at each other, a soft smile on Jyuushiro's face that made something in Toushirou tingle excitedly. Made him know that this was probably a very bad and painful idea but that he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Jyuu-chan!"

Kyouraku's loud and obnoxious holler echoed through the grounds of the first division, rattling along the walls until they rumbled in Toushirou's eardrums. He watched as Jyuushiro cringed and looked away, breaking the strange spell that had woven between them. Toushirou blinked, but his companion was already heading away, muttering under his breath.

"I'll see you this evening, Toushirou," Jyuushiro said, pausing briefly to wink over his shoulder before he continued towards where Kyouraku waited.

Really, Jyuushiro indulged him too much.

"Yeah, later," Toushirou returned quietly, anticipation coiling inside of him. And then, he turned to his own division where Matsumoto was no doubt sprawled and snoring over the couch, having accomplished nothing in his absence.

Some things never changed. And yet, he thought with a fond smile that some things possibly did.

* * *

"I didn't know there would be so many people here," Jyuushiro commented, raising his voice to be heard over the noisy press of people.

Blue-green eyes darted around, taking in the hundreds of lanterns that lit the long walkway in front of them. Varying in shape and size and color, candles bobbing within their paper shell, they lined the length of the festival. Children giggled and played, darting through the crowd while parents looked on indulgently. The smell of festival food filled the air – a mix of frying dough, frying seafood, and baked goods.

Toushirou didn't much like crowds, but being with Jyuushiro made it a little easier to bear. He looked over at the older man, who had pulled his hair into a messy bun on top of his head in deference to the lazy heat. On anyone else, it would have looked ridiculous. Or maybe that was just the sheer and utter infatuation speaking.

"It's a tradition," Toushirou finally answered and forced himself not to stare, to look at something else lest he be caught mooning like some lovesick fool. "And since the festival only lasts a day, everyone comes at once."

"I noticed," Jyuushiro teased gently, and his interest swung to the side, captivated by the brightly colored lanterns bobbing in the wind.

Just like a child. It was kind of cute. Toushirou couldn't help but think just how much of a date this seemed like. Everywhere he looked, it was either families or couples. Women hanging on the arms of their lovers, giggling girlishly. Men wrapping around their dates and puffing up with pride. Husbands and wives with children attached to them or in some cases propped on their father's shoulders. He was sure there must have been some _just friends_ here, but they were always in large, loud groups.

He wondered what he and Jyuushiro looked liked to them. He knew with their similar coloration that some might think them related, like the newcomers to the Shinigami still occasionally did. That they were father and son or possibly brothers. But then, they didn't act the part. Of course, they didn't behave like a couple either. Or did they?

Maybe he was just thinking too much about this.

"Toushirou?"

He blinked out of his thoughts, turning to look at his companion. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked if you were hungry." Jyuushiro looked concern.

Toushirou suddenly realized he'd probably been staring into space. Putting too much thought when he should be enjoying himself. He internally winced at that.

"Sure," Toushirou answered and glanced around for a suggestion. "There's some okonomiyaki over there. Or yakidango." In fact, both sounded delicious to Toushirou, whose belly rumbled with interest. "The takiyaki is pretty popular..."

They continued walking, and Toushirou narrated what he knew to be available, his memory a bit spotty after the years but coming back to him the more he tried to recall. He reminded himself that they were here to have fun together, and he really needed to try enjoying himself. He would worry about meanings and purpose and definitions later. Otherwise, he might miss something now.

Conversation was difficult because of the noise, but somehow, they managed. The two of them wandered through the festival, taking part in many of the games but having little luck in obtaining victory. Jyuushiro picked out a lantern for himself, something on a light blue background with two fish dancing. And Toushirou blushingly showed off his skills in a top-spinning contest which netted him some regard from the local children.

Jyuushiro went fishing for goldfish, caught several, and let all of them go out of kindness while Toushirou tried to catch a turtle to no avail. They paused to listen to one of the local groups play some music and gorged themselves silly on dango and fruit ame and other foods until Toushirou remembered that this was what it was like to have fun. He'd forgotten what it was like to relax this way. To not care what other people thought when they saw him walking down the street. To just ignore the stares and whispers and be content with the company.

He had missed it. Missed this. Missed not having to pretend to be serious all the time.

The night passed quicker than Toushirou would have expected with the thick heat of the afternoon gradually cooling with the advent of late evening. Some of the crowd lightened as younger children were taken home, asleep on their parents' shoulders.

Jyuushiro had taken the lead, stopping off at one of the carnival games before continuing on and prompting Toushirou to follow. The noisy chatter of the crowds lightened the further they drew away from the main road of the festival. Toushirou didn't mind that they appeared to be leaving. Too many people at once made him a bit twitchy. Besides, he'd rather spend the time with Jyuushiro. _Alone_.

The thought made him nearly giddy.

Jyuushiro's purchased lantern swayed gently to match his cadence. Toushirou admired the shifting light within the paper shell, the design suiting Jyuushiro as he had initially thought at the time.

"It's good that the weather held," Jyuushiro remarked, the sound of flowing water trickling to Toushirou's ears. "I feared it would storm."

They had degenerated to talking about the weather now? Was this the inevitable apology followed by a polite "thank you for the interest?"

Toushirou panicked. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Breaking out in a sweat and having to surreptitiously wipe his hands on his hakama. The earlier good mood was gone. Evaporated like mist blasted through by sunlight.

"Yeah," he consented and hoped it didn't sound too glum. "Rain would have ruined the lanterns. I've seen it happen before."

They found themselves at a small pond then, stocked with koi. Their bright colors were distinctly visible, despite the dim lighting. Toushirou watched their behavior as the two of them approached, all the fish immediately splashing towards Jyuushiro's location with an innate eagerness. As if they recognized him on some level.

"Ah," Jyuushiro began, a light flush staining his cheeks. "Fish have always seemed to like me."

"So I've noticed," Toushirou commented dryly. He secretly found that flush to be unbearably cute and sexy.

He stepped nearer to Jyuushiro, the act resulting in more than half of the koi disappearing in a flurry of emotion. Soon, there was only one brave pair who lingered closer to Jyuushiro. Toushirou sighed.

"They hate me," he added, something he had long since learned.

"Maybe they sense Hyourinmaru's frost," Jyuushiro suggested, grabbing his sack of leftovers and sprinkling some of the crumbs on the water. They watched as the two remaining fish popped up to snatch each morsel.

Toushirou scowled. "Not according to my vice-captain."

The other captain chuckled. His fingers trailed through the water and causing the koi to follow in their wake, as though eager for one more crumb.

"It could be the dragon, too," he commented idly. "Perhaps to them, it is not unlike being watched by a cat."

"Maybe," Toushirou hedged. Not that it had ever truly bothered him. He watched as Jyuushiro teased the fish, the fond expression making him seem younger.

He really was an attractive man. Strands of white hair curling around his face where they had escape the tie. Dark eyes fanned by equally dark lashes. Skin that was unblemished and smooth despite Jyuushiro's age. And a mouth that was curled in such a way that he looked more boyish than Toushirou himself.

Toushirou knew that he had to be staring and was on the verge of ripping his gaze away when explosions suddenly lit the sky. He instantly looked up to see brilliant sparks of color painting the night. They must have started the fireworks early. Normally, they didn't start until full dark, but maybe they had wanted to beat the clouds rolling in from the west and the subsequent threat of rain.

Beside him, he noticed Jyuushiro stand. Also tilting his head towards the sky.

What was it about festivals that pretty much demanded fireworks? Not that Toushirou didn't enjoy them, but he'd always wondered. They were nice to look at, and sometimes, they came in interesting shapes, but it was always so fleeting. Fireworks shows never lasted long, and in the end, he was left staring at a black sky, wishing it had never ended. They were sort of melancholy. Fleeting like life usual was.

More lit the night. He helplessly looked, drawn by the strong sounds that echoed around him and the faint sounds of wonder from the nearby crowd. One exploded, looking like a fall of cherry blossoms. Several followed, one after another, forming the shape of the Gotei 13 division symbols. That was pretty interesting. Maybe these were some of the Shiba specialties then. Most people from Rukongai tended to avoid mentioning the Shinigami if they could.

He was contemplating that puzzle – watching a firework that suspiciously reminded him of the old man's bankai followed by one that looked like a burst of Getsuga Tenshou – when something brushed across his hand. Toushirou glanced down to see fingers reaching for his own and curling around. His eyes widened, staring for a moment before his gaze skipped to Jyuushiro. Who was smiling at him softly. Eyes impossibly dark but also glittering as they reflected the light of the fireworks. Looking at nothing but Toushirou himself, everything else seemingly forgotten.

Toushirou's heart forgot to beat before suddenly trying to escape from his rib cage.

What the hell? Weren't they just supposed to be friends?

"Jyuu--"

Jyuushiro kissed him then, and all words vanished from the tip of Toushirou's tongue. His brain abruptly went white with static. All he could think was that he was being kissed. Lips moving. Soft, wet, and warm. So much better than anything he'd ever felt before, and no wonder everyone was so obsessed with this. Not at all like that time he and Matsumoto so Did-Not-Ever-Talk-About. Where she'd been more than a little drunk and Hinamori had just been carted off to the special quarters of the fourth division and he'd just needed someone to be with him. It had only been once and was more than fleeting, but it had almost made him swear off the whole thing for good. Especially when she'd nearly thrown up on him.

But that memory fluttered away as fingers squeezed his, and another mouth slide more firmly against his lips, the kiss deepening. Something sweet washed through Toushirou's senses, and something else thrummed through his chest.

This was definitely not something exchanged between friends.

Jyuushiro drew back a scant few seconds later, and Toushirou sucked in a shallow breath, blinking in his surprise. He wanted to say something cool and particularly romantic. Jyuushiro was smiling at him, and Toushirou was sure he had a stupidly goofy grin on his face as well.

"That..." he began, the pop-pop of the fireworks floating to his ears, "was incredibly clichéd."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Jyuushiro abruptly laughed, the sound carrying through the night. "I'm sorry; I thought you would appreciate the romanticism."

"I did," Toushirou assured him with a shake of his head. He eyed the older man, whose fingers were still intertwined with his own. "So I take it this _is_ a date?"

Jyuushiro gazed at him, his eyes dancing with mirth. "Yes, Toushirou. Perhaps I should have been clearer."

"No, no." His cheeks heated. "This was good. I got the message."

"Then, you won't mind if I do it again?"

Jyuushiro's mouth covered his before he could even form a response, and Toushirou actively participated this time, rather than simply allowing it in stunned bewilderment. Years of unrequited feelings washed away with the realization that they were being accepted and returned, sending a warm flush throughout his body.

"So…" Toushirou started, once the kiss ended and he'd managed to come back to coherency. "Where do we go from here?"

"I rather like the sound of _we_ ," Jyuushiro suggested with a somewhat silly smile of his own that must have reflected the one on Toushirou's face.

He thought of the books and guides that even now sat in a locked drawer in his desk. Though he doubted locks would prove of any deterrence to Matsumoto. Toushirou thought of Kyouraku's encouragement and of decades of waiting. He remembered nervous flutters and uncertain emotions, and it had all boiled down to this.

And well, Toushirou really liked this.

"So do I," he agreed.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Toushirou was not an impatient person. This had not changed with the passing decades, despite his maturity. He prided himself on his ability to remain calm given any situation. Honestly, they'd given him Matsumoto as his vice-captain. If he hadn't had immense stores of patience, he would have turned her into an ice statue a long time ago. As it were, she still moved freely to this day, and Toushirou developed a healthy fear of large breasts.

In any case, Toushirou considered himself the epitome of patience, one that had only increased over the years and made his will indomitable. He could handle nearly any situation with a grace that surprised many a Shinigami. The age factor was still a problem for him, so he resolved to at least let his forbearance speak for him.

He could not, however, have anticipated the situation before him.

Toushirou was growing irritated in all the wrong ways. To put it simply, to Toushirou, for the longest time his only existence had been the Shinigami and growing older and fighting in wars and getting taller and well, captaining the tenth division. In there, he hadn't had much room to spare for other things such as romantic liaisons or releasing... _tensions_.

So now that he finally had a means to do so – after many long years of unrequited yearning – he expected an end to this unintentional celibacy. He would have thought Jyuushiro would want the same. They were both healthy males. Surely, it was only natural.

Except that Jyuushiro seemed to think that kissing was good enough and stopped right there. The occasional grope or two were usually accompanied by faint looks of horror-what-have-I-done and then a hasty exit, and frankly, Toushirou's infinite patience had reached the point of no return.

Jyuushiro was the perfect gentleman. And Toushirou respected that. He honestly did. He respected that Jyuushiro wanted to take their relationship at a certain pace and that he didn't want to _ruin_ anything – for lack of a better word. Toushirou understood all of that.

But then, they had worked together for the better part of two centuries. And they had fought in a war together. And they had been dating for more than half a year! It was the last that really convinced Toushirou enough was enough. He was ready decades ago. It was time Jyuushiro got with the program.

Kyouraku found the whole situation terribly funny, which was why Toushirou had long stopped griping to him about it. Matsumoto was of no help in the matter since her idea of a solution had been to strip naked, perch on Jyuushiro's desk, and wait to strike. Toushirou admitted if only to himself that in his desperation he had actually _considered_ her ludicrous idea before dismissing it and her for the day. But it lingered in the back of his mind as a last resort. Along with Kyouraku's absurd suggestion to simply wait and let things play out as they would.

Toushirou was tired of waiting.

He wondered if perhaps the problem was that Jyuushiro still considered him a child. Which was absurd because he was so far from being a kid it wasn't even funny anymore. And a growth spurt had given him enough height to match Jyuushiro's, if not surpass it. He didn't look all of ten anymore – thank the gods – but resembling that of a human teenager. Maybe that was the issue? But honestly, Toushirou couldn't wait another century or so until he looked like an adult because he had been an adult for decades, and he was getting really tired of being treated like a child.

"Knock, knock!" Matsumoto sang cheerily and very effectively interrupting his thoughts. Performing said action milliseconds before striding into Toushirou's office without direct invitation. She sauntered his direction with a bundle of papers and envelopes. "I have a – Whoa, taichou! What's with that look?"

He narrowed his eyes. As if his scowl was something different from usual. "Did you have an _important_ reason for strolling in here uninvited?"

As usual, she was unperturbed by the hostility wafting her direction, unceremoniously dumping her armful on top of his desk in a scattered pile. Painted fingernails deftly plucked a specific envelope from the stack, and she waved it in the air triumphantly.

"Hakama feeling a bit tight, taichou?" Matsumoto asked too merrily for his liking and winked at him. _Winked at him_. "Need a hand?"

He held out his own. "Just give me the letter, Matsumoto. Now!"

She found his situation all too amusing, and as his mood worsened, hers seemed to get better. It was rather creepy to be sitting in his office and hear her giggle from the next room. Bad enough that he let her go home early some days just so he didn't have to listen to it.

"You're no fun." His vice-captain pouted but handed over the envelope anyway.

He scanned the handwriting, immediately recognizing it, and felt a ridiculous surge of hope. Stupidly eager, Toushirou slid a finger and ripped it open carefully, dropping the letter into his hand.

Matsumoto still had not left the room.

He looked up, unwilling to unfold it in her presence. "You _can_ go," Toushirou informed her as she stood there expectantly.

She just grinned at him, bouncing on her heels and causing other things to _jiggle_. He wondered if it ever bothered her that she was the reason he was gay. And Toushirou was going to go with that excuse for the rest of his life. He had become immune to _breasts_ , and it was entirely her fault.

"You wouldn't be this frustrated if you just listened to my idea!" Matsumoto reminded him, flouncing out of the room and sliding the door shut behind her.

To his credit, Toushirou saved throwing something at her until after she left the room, thereby managing not to cause harm and avoiding the dreaded anger management classes. Still, she had a point. All those subtle comments were pointing to one thing, Toushirou needed to get laid in a very bad way. All this restraint wasn't good for his health.

Sucking in a breath, he returned to his note and unfolded the paper, scanning the brief invitation. Dinner – or more precisely, a lesson on how to cook – that night at Jyuushiro's home with helpful directions attached. If that didn't sound like opportunity, Toushirou didn't know what did.

Enough was enough. It was time Toushirou stopped waiting and started acting.

\-----

"I trust you found it easily enough?" Jyuushiro asked as he held the door open for Toushirou with that light smile on his face.

"Even if I hadn't, I'm pretty sure someone could have pointed me in the right direction," Toushirou answered, stepping inside.

It occurred to him that as much as they had dated and chastely kissed and guiltily groped, they hadn't been to one another's house. Well, that would have to be rectified.

He looked around with intent interest, unsurprised by the tasteful décor and comfortable atmosphere. It was a place that invited someone inside, making them feel at home the moment they walked inside. A lot like Jyuushiro himself.

The older man laughed, closing the door behind him. "I picked out something simple, one of the first recipes I taught myself," he explained, hand falling on the small of Toushirou's back as he guided him through the house.

It felt really warm there and right, making Toushirou's body heat all the way to his toes. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.

' _Be bold_ ,' he reminded himself. ' _You'll never get what you want if you don't try for it._ '

" _Nothing ever happens if you sit around and wait for it_ ," Matsumoto had said to him, way back when this whole thing had started. And he'd hated it at the time, but she was right. And if not for her, they wouldn't even be here now because Toushirou would've never taken that first step. Perhaps it just required the reckless bravery of youth to prompt them into the next step.

"I thought miso soup would be a good place to start since everyone agrees that it's a basic of cooking," Jyuushiro continued cheerily, completely oblivious to the fact that Toushirou was really not interested in a cooking lesson at the moment. To be honest, it was what he had come here for, but Toushirou could always learn how to make soup some other time.

Now was the time to be bold.

Jyuushiro led him to the kitchen, and Toushirou gave it a brief flicker of interest. Spotless, bright and cheery, speckles of yellow and light brown everywhere with some ingredients sitting and waiting on the counter. Jyuushiro really did have cooking lessons in mind. Almost a pity that Toushirou wanted to ruin – or improve, depending on how one looked at it – his plans.

"Toushirou?"

Jyuushiro's hesitant query reminded him that he hadn't really said anything since first arriving, lost to his own decisions. He took a breath and turned to look at his…boyfriend? Lover? Friend? Hard to tell this soon.

He thought of all the words that he had planned to say, but they all died when faced with the exact situation. He looked into dark eyes, and his voice left him. All that remained were actions, and well, the moment seemed to call for them. So he reached for Jyuushiro's hand and gently pulled him closer, the other captain surprised.

He opened his mouth, probably to question him, but Toushirou didn't give him a chance to speak. He just pressed his lips against Jyuushiro's and surrendered to the passion flowing through his limbs. An intoxicating scent seemed to surround the older man, sea breeze and subtle sweetness, and Toushirou groaned low in his throat. They had kissed before but never with so much intent in Toushirou's motions.

His other hand wrapped around Jyuushiro, pulling the older male tight against him until their bodies were pressed together. Toushirou deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue into Jyuushiro's mouth and was relieved when Jyuushiro lifted a hand, circling it around him. But he didn't want to just kiss. And he needed to say something to that effect.

Toushirou broke their lips apart, licking them with a brief pass of his tongue before catching Jyuushiro's dark gaze. "I am not a child," he said because it happened to be the first thing on his list. "And you don't need to hold back for my sake."

A flush stole into Jyuushiro's face, as though embarrassed Toushirou had seen right through his reasoning. "And here I thought you were the patient one," he commented, a light chuckle leaving reddened lips.

"Not anymore," Toushirou muttered and kissed him again, a slow heat pulsing in his body, heart thundering loudly. He wished he had paid more attention to the brief tour of the house because he couldn't remember where the bedroom was.

Luckily, Jyuushiro must have realized his missing memory because he deftly steered them down the hall, restraint forgotten in the wake of Toushirou's declaration. They stumbled and shed clothes. An obi here. A haori there. Tabi like four little strips to mark the path they had taken. Hands roamed with Toushirou eager to touch, eager to feel skin beneath his fingertips.

The door to the bedroom banged open, and they fell on the futon blindly, Toushirou pinning Jyuushiro beneath him. He broke off the kiss to nibble along a jaw line, fascinated by the strange grace it seemed to carry.

Prodigy that he was, Toushirou had done his research. He knew in theory how this was supposed to go. But books and educational videos and magazines couldn't prepare him for the barrage of sensations. To the feel of skin beneath his hands and the taste of Jyuushiro's lips – something sweet and tea-like – or the little gasping sounds that the older man made when Toushirou brushed his fingers down his side.

It bombarded him from all directions, made his stomach twist up into his knots and heat flush his entire body. It made him lose his rationality as he kissed Jyuushiro, deepening an already tight embrace. Wanting to be closer, higher, hotter, _more_. His fingers scrabbled for clothing, clumsy in their eagerness.

Jyuushiro was a moving creature beneath him, twisting and writhing, hands roaming to the same extent as Toushirou's until they were all tangled up together. Toushirou's hakama hung from a single foot and one of Jyuushiro's arms were caught in his haori, but neither of them seemed to notice. Toushirou admired the spray of white that haloed Jyuushiro's head, the flush to his pale skin. And he licked a long line up a bare throat, the taste of salty sweat on his tongue. Strangely, it didn't bother him.

A hand skirted down his back, tracing his spine, and Toushirou rumbled in his chest. He shoved a hand down Jyuushiro's hakama, seeking with his fingers what he couldn't see due to their tangled position. He encountered warm flesh, hard and willing, and curled his fingers. Gratified by the gasping, strangled noise that emerged from Jyuushiro's mouth. The older captain arched up against him, and Toushirou slammed his hips down, grinding against Jyuushiro's thigh.

Not enough, his body chanted at him. More, more, more.

A low noise of frustration fought its way out of Toushirou who found a bared nipple to be rather appealing. He lowered his head, laving his tongue across it before sucking on the pebbled flesh. Tenderly though, he retained enough senses to remember the books.

" _Delicate flesh is delicate, be gentle_ " recited in the back of his mind.

Jyuushiro hissed, his hand clamping down on Toushirou's back, fingers digging in. More of his clothes vanished, though Toushirou couldn't remember stripping them himself. His fingers grew slicker as he stroked an erection, practically the only thing he didn't need a book to tell him how to do. He had too many years of practice.

There was a nice fire building inside his body, roaring through his veins, gathering in his belly and tightening his muscles. It rushed through him without taking chance for pause and roared through his ears. One hand slapped against the bed for balance as Toushirou ground down, his mouth falling on a bared collarbone, stark in the half-light of the room. It poured in from the hallway, the bedroom door wide open behind him.

Jyuushiro's skin was a mixture of salty-sweet – sweat and something else, he didn't know what. Or maybe that was his imagination. Toushirou didn't know. He just wanted, growing frustrated as he shook out his foot, trying to get rid of the garment still clinging there. And Jyuushiro still wore his hakama, one arm trapped by his haori. He was halfway bare and entirely alluring, but Toushirou wanted more.

He dragged his fingers from the depths of Jyuushiro's hakama – much to the other's groaned disappointment – and fumbled at the ties to his obi. The knot seemed ridiculously complicated, and Toushirou sucked in a stuttered breath, cursing quietly. He couldn't--

"Toushirou." A voice filtered through to his brain in the same moment a hand cupped his face, trying to gather his attention. " _Toushirou!_ "

His name spoken sternly and in the kind of voice that he'd learned to obey. He stopped, took a breath, and gazed at Jyuushiro. Certain that an odd kind of wildness had entered his eyes.

"I--"

He faltered, took an internal step back, and tried to recall the last few minutes. But they were a blur of sensation and feeling and want that his body wanted but his mind couldn't keep up with. Toushirou licked his lips, feeling guilty because Jyuushiro looked ravaged and they hadn't really done anything yet. Dark eyes remained gentle, a wanting heat banking behind them.

"Slowly" was all that Jyuushiro said.

And the word took several seconds to filter to Toushirou's lust-fogged brain. Slowly. Slow-down. Take it slower.

Right. He could do that. He nodded jerkily, forcing another breath though the heat raking through his limbs had not abated one iota.

"Sorry, I... I can do that," Toushirou promised and decided now that he had calmed down enough that he really wanted to touch Jyuushiro some more.

Slowly this time.

He leaned upwards and slanted his mouth over another, hands moving carefully as they detangled Jyuushiro's arm and undressed the both of them. The older man helped, and somehow, the slow slide of cloth over his sensitized skin was all the more erotic in the resulting quiet. Toushirou could hear his blood thumping in his ears, heart a noisy beat that surely Jyuushiro must have heard as well. But the other captain didn't say anything, merely deepened the kiss, tangling their tongues in a way that only an experienced man would know how to do. And Toushirou couldn't find it in him to be jealous. His benefit, their loss.

And then, it was the slow slide of their bare skin, one against the other. Jyuushiro's arousal nudged at his own, and Toushirou gasped, need coursing through him. He clutched the futon with one hand, the other buried in long white hair. His entire body trembled with the force of holding back. Everything he had read wanted to tumble down the drain. He didn't think he could last that long, not and get to everything.

But that was just the thing, wasn't it?

Toushirou didn't have to because Jyuushiro was here with him now and actually – _hopefully –_ planned to be in the future, so there was opportunity here. He wasn't suffering from unrequited wants anymore.

That utter realization shot through him like a wildfire, though it didn't do a damn thing to dampen his rush to release. He supposed it was pure luck that Jyuushiro seemed to be in the same desperate state, his skin flushed an attractive shade.

Toushirou dragged his lips back to Jyuushiro's from where they had slanted aside, grasping desperately for breath. He rolled his hips, the older man's body rising to meet his. Hands emerged, arms locking around Toushirou as fingers clamped on his hips, forcing a knee-shaking grind that made pleasure pepper across his skin in rising shivers. A pleased rumble rattled through his chest, and Jyuushiro echoed the statement, bodies beginning a grinding dance that somehow synchronized without the judicious application of mental effort.

It started in Toushirou's belly, a clenching pull of pleasure, before it radiated to his other limbs. His ears drowned in the sounds of Jyuushiro's gasps, skin heated from the press of those artistic, talented fingers. It coiled within him like a spring, waiting to be released, and he moaned and shook with want. All ideas of making things last, of having some sort of romantic slide towards ecstasy were abandoned in the wake of just _wanting._

Next time, Toushirou promised himself. Next time, he would definitely do better.

But it was finally so much that he couldn't hold himself back if he tried. Jyuushiro felt too good against him. Too right. Moving perfectly in all the right places and in all the right ways. Toushirou gasped, fingers gripping onto the comforter as the sensations overwhelmed him.

He shook, spilling himself between their moving bodies, pleasure spiking through him in rapid bursts. Toushirou panted, his face buried in Jyuushiro's throat, and he worked a hand free to worm it between their bodies. Jyuushiro's erection nudged against his groin, still hard and wanting, and Toushirou couldn't have that.

Jyuushiro breathed something, a mixture of word and sound, and Toushirou stroked his fingers over him. Dampness met his touch, slickening his motions, making Jyuushiro arch beneath him in a very erotic move. He mouthed a collarbone just because it was there in front of him and his tongue wanted to explore his pale skin very much. Fingers clamped down on his back, digging in. And Jyuushiro ground up against him, hips rocking desperately.

There was a sound that might have been Toushirou's name, but it was lost to a hungry moan as Jyuushiro came, spilling liquid warmth over his fingers and between them. Toushirou sought out lips, kissing heatedly, sloppily.

So, so good. He never thought it would be like this. Not even the books Kyouraku had given him could have prepared him for this.

Jyuushiro tangled a hand in Toushirou's hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Their frantic movements slowed, Toushirou leaning to the side so as not to cover the other man with his weight. He rather enjoyed the feel of their bodies pressed together, Jyuushiro's heat against his. Even more, he loved kissing.

They broke apart, their faces still rather close as if they shared the same breath. Toushirou felt strangely giddy. It took all he had to keep from showing the odd emotion on his face.

"What was that about holding back?" Jyuushiro murmured.

And Toushirou couldn't help it. He flushed a deep scarlet.

"I'm sorry," he apologized because maybe he had rushed a little too quickly and abandoned all sense of restraint. There went his idea of the epitome of patience.

Jyuushiro laughed softly, and once again, it was one of the greatest sounds in the world. "No need to apologize. I was teasing you."

"Oh."

Teasing was nice. Teasing was comfortable. Toushirou was glad that they could be here, lying together naked and sticky and teasing each other. He would much prefer that over awkward moments and silent what-have-I-dones?

Jyuushiro's hand settled on his back, stroking lightly. And Toushirou squirmed, a motion meant to be comforting that turned into a desire for something else. After all, it had been centuries for him – never for him if he were completely honest. And perhaps it had been centuries for Jyuushiro also, though he wasn't going to ask.

Fingers danced down his spine. "Perhaps I should be the one to apologize, for showing restraint where it was not needed."

"Don't apologize," Toushirou mumbled, arching into the soft touch, encouraging more. "Just don't stop."

Jyuushiro chuckled and lowered his head, his warm breath puffing across Toushirou's bare shoulder. Mischief danced in his dark eyes, tongue slipping from his lips to trace a nonsense path over Toushirou's skin. He shivered with want, rising arousal bumping against another. Breath washed over his skin, Jyuushiro's voice a low rumble.

"We have all night."

\-----

Toushirou groaned, waking to a brilliant sun that slanted directly into his eyes. He immediately rolled over to avoid the offensive brightness and encountered another body, along with a loss of feeling in one of his arms. Another person's breath puffed against his – _bare –_ skin. And then, he remembered with a heated flush through him just what had happened the night before.

Jyuushiro seemed to be sleeping soundly, though his hair was a tangled mess beneath his head. And Toushirou felt an odd surge of happiness. A strange urge to grin like a loon attacked him, but he fought it back down. No need to go acting like an idiot after all.

He had a thought of closing his eyes and going back to sleep, cuddling up against Jyuushiro's warmth and letting it sway him for a few precious more hours. But he was wide awake now and full of energy. There would be no more resting for him.

Toushirou eased his arm free and sat up, rubbing a palm over his face to clear off lingering dregs of sleepiness. That was when he saw it. Sitting in the open doorway, a big pink bow decorating the whole thing. A rather large basket of woven wood that hadn't been there the night before, meaning someone had placed it there recently.

Eyes narrowing, Toushirou carefully extracted himself from a tangle of limbs and bedcovers and climbed off the futon. Jyuushiro didn't stir, except to shift a little.

All was well.

Stretching, Toushirou padded quietly over to the obvious gift, eying it critically. The giver had pinned a note to the outside, and Toushirou tore it off. He thought he might have recognized the design but was still too sleep-addled to put much thought into it.

He unfolded the paper, scanning the few lines of text.

" _Congratulations!_ " the note began, and the general cheeriness that single, printed word emanated practically flew off the paper. " _Here's a little gift from me to my favorite couple! Use them wisely and use them often!_ "

Toushirou didn't want to look, but he did because his curiosity was stronger than his fear. Holding his breath, he tugged one end of the ribbon and watched as it uncoiled itself, dropping to the floor. The cloth binding the top of the basket pooled down with it, revealing the contents in all their glory.

He had never been such a mixture of aroused and horrified in his entire life.

Most of the items he wouldn't have recognized if he hadn't done so much research. Others would require an instruction manual before he could even begin to figure out how to use them – if he even wanted to – and wasn't it lucky that Kyouraku tucked a bundle of manuals into the corner? He at least could identify the three massive bottles of _personal lubricant_ as the label helpfully defined.

It suddenly occurred to Toushirou that Kyouraku had to have placed this himself and sometime in the last few hours in which Jyuushiro and Toushirou had been sprawled naked across the bed and each other. Which meant, by the time they roused themselves enough to shower, eat, and greet the day, all of Seireitei would know where they had been and what they had been doing.

A dark heat stole into his cheeks. That was the one danger of being attached to Jyuushiro, he supposed. One inevitably had to invite Kyouraku Shunsui into his life as well.

Cloth shifted, and Toushirou looked over his shoulder to see Jyuushiro waking, sleepily peeling open his eyes and stretching languidly. Somehow, just watching made Toushirou just want to crawl back onto bed – and Jyuushiro – and never leave either again. He thought of the basket of helpful and vaguely frightening supplies and wondered how many he would actually get to put to use.

"Good morning," Jyuushiro murmured with a light yawn, hair mussed and sticking in all directions and the impression of a pillow on his cheek. His eyes were dark. Sexy.

"Morning," Toushirou said and lifted a hand, showing him the folded piece of paper. "Kyouraku was here. He left something." It took great effort not to scowl in memory.

"Oh?" He watched as Jyuushiro sat up, sheets pooling around his waist and revealing the pale skin of his bared chest. With a few visible red markings that Toushirou could remember placing himself.

The younger male nodded, something stirring inside of him. "A basket." This time he really did scowl. "A basket with... _things_ inside of it."

"I can imagine, knowing Shun," Jyuushiro stated and shook his head. "Anything useful?"

That did it. Toushirou blushed like a wild man, unable to admit that he had already considered a couple of the items. He turned, rooting through the basket and dragging up one of the jars of lubricant. It was one of the least embarrassing items.

"This?"

Jyuushiro smiled slowly.

And Toushirou couldn't help but think briefly that Matsumoto was right. Nothing happened if he just sat around and waited for it. He had to reach out and grab it with both hands.

And Toushirou quickly walked back over to the bed.


End file.
